Crayfish are bugs, right?

Normal... well, maybe Hazel could pretend to be normal. She was a bit on the strange side, but so it goes. Strange, maybe a little feral. That was okay. Feral children, raised by wolves-- wait. Shit, raised by wolves? Raise by not-wolves. Raised by themselves... something like that. You get the sentiment. Good enough, at least. Yes, good enough.

If Hazel could help it, she'd never grow up. Never ever. There would always be a sort of wildness to her, a lack of refinement that probably came from being raised in a home with parents. Being actually raised by anyone at all. Still, there was a lack of typical developmental milestones out here on her own. Instead, she was learning things that would make her... different. Things like how to keep herself alive, how to fend off coyotes, how to not starve. The things that you didn't usually have to worry about until at least a little later. No matter. Hazel simply did her best.

I'll getcha! Zoey's voice came, and with it, a splashing in the mud and silt. Hazel laughed, her tail wagging as she splashed along beside her friend. She could see how the goggles would come in handy now, stopping to wipe the muck from her eyes. "Aaaaa, it's so muddy!" She dunked her head under the water, coming up with a giant, splashing shake. In every direction, water splayed out around her. As the spring sunshine beamed down around them, the pair really was living their best lives. Childhood was a beautiful thing.

"Speech"